


Councilman Sokka

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Councilman Sokka, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Katara - Freeform, Lawyer!reader - Freeform, Older Sokka, Original Character - Freeform, Pool Sex, Reader-Insert, Riding, Sex, Smut, Sokka - Freeform, Strip Tease, Teasing, Toph Beifong - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Councilman Sokka and (Y/n) (L/n) have been friends for a long time, even as they got their dream jobs in the Republic. But then Sokka realized that maybe friends wasn't enough for him. With his new feelings coming into play and an underground swimming pool, Sokka knew he wasn't reading this wrong.He was sure she liked him, too.
Relationships: sokka/reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 418





	Councilman Sokka

A wiggle of the doorknob makes Sokka look up from the papers strewn on his brown wooden desk, and when it swings open to reveal (Y/n), he grins. “Court Attorney (L/n),” Sokka greets, running fingers over his ponytail. In his late twenties, sporting stubbled sharp jaw and warm clothes that made his blue eyes shine, it isn’t a wonder he received several offers of betrothals from women (and parents of women). And as always, he turned them down, something that always bothered (Y/n). When she had inquired about it, Sokka had only smiled wickedly at her and murmured, “I’m waiting on someone else.”

“Councilman Sokka,” (Y/n) replies in a playful tone. The woman shuts the door behind her, and then turns around, adjusting her pencil skirt as sits down across him.

When her skirt rides up her thighs a bit, Sokka’s eyes snagged to the movement, watching as she absently tugs it back down, her eyes trained on the file in her hands.

“Missed me already?”

(Y/n) snorts, tossing the file on the desk. “You’re not that special, darling. I need to discuss about the Triple Threat Case downtown.”

He purses his lips, eyeing the folder wearily. Months spent on that case and nothing was coming from it, and Sokka is pretty close to declaring himself retired. Still, he opens it and browses through the sheets. “These were from last month. Toph’s been working her ass off getting these guys, but I got a new report from her today. Check it out.”

“They’re getting bold,” (Y/n) comments, getting up, and again, Sokka finds himself wondering why he’s watching her walk briskly around to him. Sure, he knows she’s attractive, and paired with her crazy good streak at her job in court, (Y/n) was strong and brave and everything Sokka loves about a woman.

But… now he’s paying a little extra attention to her. To the brush of her fingers against paper as she thumbs through the report on his desk, the way she leans to the desk to read them, the way her body is close to his that he can feel the heat, and by the spirits, when she shifts on her legs to the skirt covering her rump.

Feeling a short hum of excitement run through him, Sokka wonders what it would feel like if he bends her over his desk and presses himself along the curve of her back.

“—Sokka?”

Sokka flinches, snaps his eyes up to find her staring at him with furrowed brows. “Hm?” He nearly squeaks, already berating himself for thinking about (Y/n) that way.

(Y/n) tilts her head. “You doing okay?”

Spirits, she looks cute.

He manages to nod, swallowing roughly as he avoids looking at her. “What—what were you saying?”

And he knows he should be paying attention as she starts to speak again, but Sokka can only think about her. He has known her for years and they have worked together so often that they became great friends, so much that even the GAang knows her well enough. Katara loves (Y/n) to death because she helped outlaw blood-bending. Toph never fails to call him up and ask if he’s not a coward and has asked her out yet. Aang always greets her with a hug and sends Sokka these looks whenever she’s around.

And he knows he shouldn’t wait so long, but he has to know if he’s reading things right. He is not the kind of man who goes into things half-assed. He prefers a safety net, and that net means not losing her as a friend no matter what.

“You’re not listening to me at all, are you?” (Y/n) snaps, crossing her arms.

Sokka jolts, sending her a sheepish smile that makes her roll her eyes. He curls into himself at the weight of her scrutinizing look, forcing himself to think, be cool, be cool, be cool.

She shifts to lean against the desk, so she faces him, and the next time he looks up, there’s a softer look there. Her lips are pressed together as if she wants to say something. “Talk to me, Sokka.”

Spirits, her voice was low and gentle and it did things to him. His heart feels like it’s melting. “I’m okay,” he still says.

“Are you stressed about this?” (Y/n) asks, and she places her hands on the desk where her hips reside, and he has a hard time not grabbing those fingers and intertwining them with his. “When was the last time you’ve taken a break?”

A loud roar from outside makes Sokka sigh in relief, because (Y/n) gets up to investigate, looking out his large window. Her eyes grow wide. “Is—is that a moose-lion?” She shrieks.

Sokka grins, nearly laughs, because thank the spirits for his pet moose-lion making a ruckus just when he needs one. That relief doesn’t last long when he looks up, because then he thinks, she looks good pressed up against the window.

And he wonders what it feels like to have his hands roam up her body slowly; to trails kisses down the exposed skin of her neck as he tugs her skirt down. His hands would worship her, no doubt, dig into the skin of her hips and pull it back to him. His fingers would push down low until it teases the back of her underwear, and then push past it to delve—

“It’s eating up the lawn!”

And Sokka rockets back to reality, feeling his pants grow a little more tighter. With a burning red face, Sokka gets up and places a healthy distance between them to stare out at the lawn where—yup, the moose-lion is chewing up the lawn, ignoring the security guards running around desperately. He snickers and is met with (Y/n)’s incredulous stare. “That’s Foo-Foo-Cuddlypoops.”

“You gave him that name?” She chokes out.

“Yes!”

“Was a knife at your throat when you made that choice?”

He shoots her a glare. “I managed to train him a couple years back. He likes to visit every now and then to trouble me.” Sokka shrugs. “He likes the attention.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” (Y/n) mumbles. Her face lights up. “Is it possible to take a ride on Foo-Foo?”

His brows scrunch up. “Yeah, I do that.”

“Then let’s do it! We both clearly need a break from this case, so what do you say we clock out for the day?”

Something warm rises up his chest before setting his heart aflame. Her smile is infectious and Sokka finds himself shaking his head, but then an idea springs to him.

And so, Sokka nods.

*

There is usually a problem wearing skirts and riding an animal’s back. When Sokka mounts his moose-lion and helps (Y/n) up behind him, he hears a distressed sound and turns around. (Y/n) shifts her legs nervously, skirt pulling tight against her legs and riding high to reveal the creamy flesh of her thighs that has Sokka staring a little longer than necessary.

When Sokka looks up, he realizes that he isn’t the only one staring, and that her movement is catching the eyes of several other men around. Feeling anger bubble in him, Sokka meets the gaze of every one of those men, eyes sharp and brows tight as he glowers at them so clearly that the leering men uncomfortably look away.

“Wanna sit upfront?” Sokka asks, turning his attention back to her. She glances up, lips pursed. “You can sit sideways so you’re more comfortable.”

Relief washes over her face and (Y/n) nods. She uses his hands and shoulders to guide her to the front of the saddle, and his heart is wildly thumping against his chest. Once she throws her legs over the right side of the animal, Sokka plunges forward, one arm holding her to his chest. (Y/n) slowly wraps her arms around his waist and something in Sokka feels loose and free.

When (Y/n) looks up at him, her cheeks a bright red, Sokka realizes three things. One, he really, really wants to kiss her. Two, he can’t believe he gets to spend an entire ride with her pressed to him like this. And three…three is the most mind-blowing, assuring thing he’s felt in a while.

Three is the way she stares at his lips before her gaze flickers away, and a flush crawls up her neck so hot that even Sokka felt it.

And now Sokka hopes. It feels like things were cementing for him. He needs to tell her soon.

He realizes he isn’t breathing. Sokka is still staring down at the top of her head (she was so much shorter, bless her), and (Y/n)’s fingers pressing against his back burns through his clothes.

“Are we gonna leave or sit here all day?” She mumbles.

“I’ll throw you off Foo-Foo,” Sokka retorts, smiling against her head.

(Y/n) only chuckles, turning her head to watch the view ahead of her. Foo-Foo shifts impatiently under them. “You can try, darling.”

And Sokka soars.

He snaps the reins, and with a ridiculous call of “Foo-Foo, stomp!” they take off into the forest behind the building.

A large leap over brush sends (Y/n) bumping up into the air and she squeals, but she isn’t as terrified as she should be, because Sokka is holding her and his laugh rumbles against her as she curls her fingers tighter into him.

It’s exhilarating, riding the fast animal that dodges trees and bushes like they are flying, and for (Y/n), it’s true half the time, but she knows Sokka would always pull her to safety.

The deeper they ride into the forest, the prettier it gets, and the next thing they know, Foo-Foo is taking a dive into a secluded area, a hole in the ground that’s so well hidden anyone would walk over it accidently.

(Y/n)’s hair flies up as she screams at the free fall, until they all jolt as Foo-Foo lands on his feet. She doesn’t open her eyes.

Sokka laughs, out of breath, and carefully nudged the woman curled up over his chest. “Look up,” he says.

(Y/n) does. Her lips part as her eyes take in the scene before her. Above her, a hole twenty metres high where Foo-Foo fell through. But as she looked further, she notices the ledges against the wall leading up to the hole. And in the center of this underground cavern is a large, clear pool of water surrounded by grass and flowers.

Sokka gently pries himself from her as she distracts herself with the view. He dismounts, smiling at her awe. “It’s something I made with my friends,” he mentions. Sokka stretches his arms up to her.

(Y/n) eases herself down and into his arms where they hold her hips firmly, and he watches as she blushes again, so pretty. (Y/n) exhales, staring up at him, barely a gap where their chests meet.

Sokka gulps, pulling his hands away and stepping back. (Y/n) frowns but doesn’t mention it. Foo-Foo wanders away to curl up and take a nap. “I pretty much built this cave.”

And there she is. Her eyes sharpen and (Y/n) has that look, that very lawyer look that says, _I’m a second away from destroying you._

He’s less scared. More excited.

She sniffs curiously. Tilts her head and furrows her brows. “You smell that?”

“Smell what?” Sokka asks.

(Y/n) quirks a brow, scrunching a nose. “Smells like… a fire. Because you’re a _liar_!”

By the spirits, she is so lame. And still, Sokka’s lip is twitching upwards, trying hard not to laugh, but then (Y/n) grins at him.

“This looks like earth-bending, the carving of this cavern underneath solid earth, but still held up firm. No chance of caving in,” (Y/n) says, lip curling up. “You earth-bend?”

Sokka rubs his neck, grinning. “Well—”

“No pipes,” she continues, “did you carry buckets of water to fill up the pool? I’d have thought water-bending was easier.” (Y/n) looks amused, crossing her arms as she kicks off her shoes and stretches her toes against the soft grass. “You made this entire cave?”

“Alright, smart ass,” Sokka laughs. “I’m not dumb to say anything more in case you turn them against me.” At her victory, she sticks her tongue out and he stifles a laugh. “Very mature of you.”

Sokka decides now is the best time to test his theory. Either way, he’s going to get a reaction, but he would study her to know.

So, he shrugs out of his blue jacket. (Y/n) watches it drop to the ground before her eyes trail back up. And then Sokka bites his lip from smiling, and pulls off his tunic, revealing his bare, toned chest, and he has the pleasure to watch (Y/n) turn red and shift.

Her eyes dart down to his chest and then stomach. Her lips part. “What—what are you doing?” She croaks out.

Sokka feigns nonchalance, as if her stare doesn’t make him feel like the most self-conscious person in the world. He tugs at the belt of his pants. “You’d think I brought you to an underground pool, only for us to not swim?”

And when Sokka unbuckles his belt, his eyes flick up, watching through his lashes as (Y/n)’s gaze is firmly trained on him, a strange expression on her face and her fingers curl into fists. He smiles wickedly.

Then, he pulls his pants down, leaving him in tight shorts that stop high up his thighs. He hears a choked-off sound, but doesn’t look up, instead tossing his pants aside.

Maybe this is a cruel idea because (Y/n) looks a second from combusting. But it satisfies the little hope in his chest.

Sokka turns to the water and then looks over his shoulder, trying his best to look seducing and his lips tug into a smirk when (Y/n)’s eyes shoot up from where they were studying his ass. “You joining me?” He says in a low voice.

Something stirred in (Y/n). He could see the gears turning in her head, and the next think he knows, (Y/n) is staring at him, dead straight in the eyes with the most dark, come-hither look that sends a thrill down his spine.

He realizes too late that he’s playing with fire.

Her hands reach up, and with deft fingers, she unbuttons her soft blouse slowly, and Sokka is given a peek of black lace before she drifts lower; tugs the tail of her blouse out of her skirt. (Y/n) smirks at him, slides off a sleeve to reveal a bare shoulder and chest covered with a pretty bra, and then her blouse is dumped at her feet.

Sokka feels his shorts tighten. His mouth is dry and he’s sure his heart has given up.

A soft screech of a zipper has him looking down where (Y/n) turns her back to him, and then she is wiggling and shimmying her skirt down innocently, but each movement of her hips has Sokka losing his breath.

He comes to find a round, perky butt barely covered in dark panties, and when (Y/n) turns back around, arms crossed to push her chest higher, Sokka thinks he has a nose-bleed.

“Something wrong?” Her voice is like a snake.

Sokka straightens up, gulps. The crunch of grass echoes as (Y/n) walks to him, hips swaying like they’re taunting him, calling him to touch.

And now Sokka _knows_ he’s reading this right.

Except his brain short-circuits when (Y/n) stands right before him, gorgeous and intoxicating with her deadly smile and her fingers that reach out to trail up Sokka’s arm, burning in its wake.

Sokka shakes. He then throws himself into the pool, creating a splash so big it sends water over her. When he bobs his head up, feeling his body slowly cool down, he nearly laughs at the angry look she’s sending him. She looks like a drowned cat with her hair over her face.

(Y/n) pulls her hair back, and _oh, no,_ he shouldn’t be looking, but now it’s too late because water is trailing down her neck and over her chest, down the smooth expanse of her stomach, and her fingers brush over the waistband of her underwear and _she knows._

She knows what she’s doing.

Sokka swallows roughly, feet gently kicking.

(Y/n) jumps in and Sokka closes his eyes on instinct as water washes over him. When she surfaces with a gleeful laugh, Sokka wonders how her mood changed from sexy seductress to excited giggly.

Sokka smiles mischievously, dips his head in the pool and disappears.

(Y/n) stares at the spot he had been in and nervousness crawls up her gut. He’s playing with her.

Something brushes her leg and she jolts, looking down the rippling water to find him already gone.

And then Sokka splashes behind her, and before she has a chance to turn around, his strong arms slide around her waist and tugs, until she is pressed along his body.

All Sokka thinks is, _oh spirits it’s happening, oh bless me, she’s so soft, I’m gonna die._

With fingers digging into her waist and a nose pressed to her neck, (Y/n) is breathing heavily. She turns her head to Sokka, letting his eyes trail from her brows down to her lips, and her breaths hit his face. Sokka trembles, leans closer until his nose presses against her cheek and their lips brush.

He can’t wait anymore.

Closing the gap between their lips is the best thing he has ever done. She is already curling a hand around his neck, her head tilts awkwardly but neither of them makes a move to shift. The water sloshing around them becomes hotter as their kiss becomes deeper, her tongue teasing his lip before her teeth latch onto his bottom lip and she sucks it into her mouth. A bolt of heat shoots through him and his cock twitches as they kiss. The fingers curling at the nape of his neck drift up to loosen his ponytail and then grip tightly at his brown hair, and Sokka groans hotly into her mouth.

His callous palms thumb at her waist, drifts down to her hips and holds them with a grip that bruises, but (Y/n) shudders into him, gasping quietly. Sokka swallows it as he yanks her closer so that their hips align and he’s pressed into the curve of her ass. The friction is delicious and warm.

(Y/n)’s other hand travels down his arm and touches the side of his thigh. Sokka finally separates from her soft, warm mouth and presses a kiss on her shoulder. And then he’s tasting the skin there, biting and licking and sucking, squeezing moans from her. Every time his teeth scrape the curve of her neck or bites at her earlobe, her nails dig into the muscular skin of his thigh.

“Sokka,” (Y/n) breathes, tilting her head to give him more room to work his lips on her neck. He eagerly sucks on a patch of bare skin, a finger working under her bra strap and slowly pulling it off her shoulder as he nibbles her skin.

When she tries to turn to face him, Sokka holds her tight. And when (Y/n) makes a broken sound at the thought pf not touching Sokka back, Sokka’s teeth clamp onto the side of her neck, growling softly, even as sparks flash behind her eyelids and sends arousal to her core.

The way he holds her, keeps her still and compliant speaks of only one thing. He’s in charge.

Once (Y/n) stops squirming, but still shaky as he loosens his hold, Sokka presses a gentle kiss to the sensitive bite and she shivers, slowly relaxing back into his chest. He unclasps her bra and tosses it aside. One brown hand comes back up, swirling around her stomach slow enough to make her twitch impatiently. It cups her breast and (Y/n) exhales at the feeling of his thumb rolling around her nipple.

“Come on,” she says, “gimme something more.”

A sharp pinch to her breast and she jolts, a sigh leaving her. Sokka’s other hand toys with her panties, a finger teasingly going under the band before coming back out. He feels (Y/n) hiss under her breath and he knows he’s taking so long, but every second he spends stalling is every second added to her becoming angry and desperate, and he so wants to see her lose herself.

He wants to make her lose herself.

“Come on,” (Y/n) urges, bucking her hips into his hand. Her voice is strained. His hand curls around her crotch and he can feel this wonderful heat from her, and when one finger presses into the area covering her folds, (Y/n) keens. “Touch me, come on, Sokka, touch me, please.”

Sokka’s hand plunged into her panties immediately, fingers probing around until they found her entrance, wet and hot, and not because of the water in the pool. “You’re wet,” he murmurs into her ears, peeking over her shoulder to watch the distorted image of his hands down her underwear.

(Y/n) leans her head back on his shoulder, and she looks wrecked, with darkened, lust filled eyes and lips bitten and swollen and red. Sokka kisses her and pushes two fingers into her easily, swallowing her moans as she bucks harder into his hand. Her cheeks flush a deep red as her walls clench around his fingers tightly, and Sokka realizes he cannot get any harder than he has now.

He discards his underwear easily and presses the head of his cock against her ass, rubbing along the curve as he pumps a third finger into her cunt. (Y/n) is writhing on him, making these cute “ah, ah, Sokka, feels—feels good” sounds and it makes him hump against her harder and groan loudly.

His stomach is coiling tightly with warmth. And if he isn’t mistaken, He’s sure with the way (Y/n) looks dazed, fucking herself desperately on his thick fingers, that she’s coming pretty close, too.

“More,” (Y/n) grunts. He curls his fingers in her and her back arches and she cries out his name, begging, “more, _more_ , _pleasepleaseplease_ , need you, _Sokka_ , please!”

Sokka snaps. He tugs down her underwear hurriedly and backs her into the edge of the pool where steps were carved out. His legs wobbled as he sits down and pulls her onto his lap, and (Y/n) is excited because her hands are loose and she roams his chest and kisses down his neck eagerly, drawing moans from him. Her hips grind down on his and he groans, holding her tighter.

“Fuck me,” she whispers. Her fingers burn despite the cooling water and he reels as she touches his cock, a finger pulling back his foreskin to dip a thumb into his slit. Sokka moans into her neck as shudders and shakes.

Finally, Sokka pushes her teasing hands away when he feels it get too much, and she straddles him, lines his cock up with her entrance, and sinks down to it like she is made for riding him.

Sokka’s brows scrunch as warmth envelopes him and he feels so, so fucking good his mind short-circuited. When she bottoms out, he manages to open her eyes because (Y/n) is moaning so loudly and her head is thrown back, chest heaving and she is the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen.

He bites a lip when (Y/n)’s eyes flutter open, catching him in one intimate moment where they feel full and complete with each other.

(Y/n)’s lips quirks upwards. She clenches around him tightly and the breath leaves Sokka, _burns_ him. He grunts. “Demon woman. So _tight_.”

(Y/n) laughs and Sokka stares. How can one woman be so good? She’s already glowing. He feels like the luckiest man in the world.

Sokka’s hands run down to her ass and squeezes, making her huff. He tries to smack it but the water doesn’t allow anything except a gentle tap. “Alright, let’s get back to it.”

He helps her up until only his tip is inside her, and in one fluid motion as she grinds down on him, his hips snap up and they both reel from the burst of pleasure. After that, it’s just a cacophony of moans and grunts as she rides his cock hard and Sokka nerves singe.

“Uh, uh,” (Y/n) moans, “so good, _sosogood_.”

“My cock feels so good in you,” Sokka breathes out, his stomach burning hot as their thighs slap together softly. Her hands grip his shoulders in a death grip and her lips are parted.

“Sokka, Sokka, oh!” At one snap of his hips, (Y/n) cries out. “There! There, there, oh, spirits, don’t stop, _don’tstop_!”

The sound of his name falling from her lips snaps whatever leash he has on himself.

And then Sokka is pounding into her like a beast, and (Y/n) sobs his name every time he sinks into her. He presses his mouth to hers desperately to silence her moans, slamming her down onto him.

“I’m— _ah_ —I’m close,” she gasps out, water licking at their bodies harsher.

Sokka speeds up, lips closing around her breast and when he sucks at the flesh, her back archers and she groans. “Come for me, (Y/n),” he rasps out, peppering kisses over her chest, white spots in his vision. “So, so fucking good for me, _come for me_ , come on, baby.”

And she does, in a flash of white-hot pleasure, her nails dig into his shoulders and her reaction is enough to get him to pull out and spill into the water, his teeth biting into the skin of her neck hard enough she trembles in his lap, brokenly gasping his name.

Short waves of pleasure washes over him. He feels her warmth and holds her close. Sokka didn’t realize how far out of it he is until (Y/n) shakes him gently.

He unscrews his eyes, softly releasing her neck to find the area littered with bruises, and he kisses the spot. When he looks up, blinking away white spots, he finds her grinning lazily. She nudges her nose against his, quietly laughing. “You alright, Councilman?”

He croaks out a sound, cheeks flushing, and his head falls on her chest. (Y/n)’s hands card through his brown hair. He rumbles out a pleased sound.

“No fight in you at all, huh?” (Y/n) comments in amusement. And honestly, he can’t fight that. Sokka just needs to live in this moment, this good, soft, lovely dream of a moment where he finally…

Ah, fuck, he didn’t even get around to confess before they fucked.

“I like you,” he blurts out.

(Y/n) shakes with laughter. “I should hope so. I don’t do this with just anyone.” Her nails lightly scratch at his scalp. “Took you long enough.”

Sokka manages to pull away, incredulous. “You knew?”

“Everyone knew!” She snorts, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his nose. He melted into the touch. Oh, spirits, he was wrapped around her finger.

His blue eyes looks at her mouth and (Y/n) gives him a kiss, soft and sweet that has him sighing happily.

“You’re too good to me,” Sokka mumbles into her mouth.

(Y/n) quirks a brow. “You don’t see me getting proposals every day.”

“That’s because you scare people.”

“Well, they’re cowards.” (Y/n) adjusted on his lap so that his hands curled her waist.

Sokka smiles crookedly. “They are. I’m not anymore. I want to court you.”

(Y/n) smiles at him brilliantly. “And here I thought I was only getting a moose-lion ride, but I got a Sokka ride, too.”

A sound of embarrassment escapes him as she laughs. “Can’t you call it sex like a normal person?” His thumbs massage the spine of her column thoughtlessly. Sex with her is mind-blowing. Sharing this moment feels a thousand times better.

He wants to have more.

When (Y/n) smacks his ass and kisses him playfully, Sokka knows that she wants them, too.


End file.
